A.N/ So don't judge this fanfic too harshly. This came to me in the middle of the night (like so late that I was actually in bed already), I couldn't get it out of my head, so I got up, grabbed my notebook and wrote this mess of ideas down. It doesn't really make sense but, I hope you still like it! J
A.N/ Also, I'm sadly, not John Green and didn't write this book. (Though if you really need this note to tell you this than you WAY over estimate my writing ability, I WISH I COULD WRITE LIKE HIM)
Hazel Grace knew.
Hazel Grace knew it was time.
She had lain in the stiff hospital bed all day with everything that she had brought from her house; meaning Augustus' chapter.
She had kept it under her pillow and brought it out when she was alone, all throughout the course of the day.
Hazel Grace read it, and read it, and read it, and read it, and read it. She took her weak fingers and forced herself to trace the words Augustus had written. She forced herself to read, and read, and synthesize, and know, and understand, and feel what he had written, over and over and over again.
And feel she did …
But she didn't feel what she knew she should feel, no matter how far her body waned and tormented itself, she still didn't re-feel a …
ten
Or a nine
Or an eight
Or a seven
Or a six
Or even five
Nor four
Not a three
Never a two
It wasn't even a one…
She felt none.
She wasn't thinking of numbers and she wasn't truly experiencing the pain. She only felt the memories and the warmth and the happiness, all of which was covered by whispers, no the whisper.
Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay?
She couldn't answer, she wanted to answer, oh Lord knew she did but she couldn't, she couldn't because she knew and she was none.
She wanted to answer in the memories …
Champagne Stars
Wish granting factories
Book exchanges
The little girls at malls
The winner of America's Next Top Model
Cigarette shaped metaphors
A diagram of disabled virgins
The house of a girl named Anne Frank
Always was too cliché but –
Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay?
10 … no
9 … no
8 … no
7 … no
6 … no
5 … no
4 … no
3 … no
2 … no
1 … no
None … none.
She wanted to answer through the warmth of the happiness …
Shaded heat on the porch
Sunlight on the grass and the picnic blanket
The breeze as she rocked back and forth on the swing
The—
Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay?
She knew there had been footsteps, through her memories and through her haze, through the veil of whispers, she knew there had been footsteps … and maybe an odd beeping sound.
Okay? 10. Okay? 9. Okay? 8. Okay? 7. Okay? 6. Okay? 5. Okay? 4. Okay? 3. Okay? 2. Okay? 1. Okay? None.
"Hazel what are you" "Hazel" "Hazel, how are you" "HAZEL" "Hazel what is it"
She knew they wanted number but she could finally answer; she could finally answer him …
Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay?
Okay?
Okay.
And okay felt 10 and okay felt 9, and okay felt 8, and okay felt 7, and okay felt 6, and okay felt 5, and okay felt 4, and okay felt 3, and okay felt 2, and okay felt 1, and okay was none. And okay put an end to the whispers because okay put an end to it all.
A.N/ Please review, I don't care if you don't favourite but I really want feedback!